Prisoner to God
by CraftAsher28
Summary: Novelization of a very successful Skyrim playthrough. Expect realism, EVENTUAL divergence from game, in-depth magic, and stretched explanations to in-game mechanics. Will be a very long story, and I hope you enjoy. Rated M for SkyriM. Cover img belongs to: g
_**A.N.**_ **Hello everyone in the Skyrim fandom. I am a Skyrim veteran, but I do NOT own it, as most of you probably would have already figured out considering I'm writing fanfiction and not a Skyrim novel. This is only my second fanfiction, and my first is currently on the back-burner as I entered a writer's block with it. Too many ideas, ya know? Anyway, this is literally just my favorite playthrough (novelized) with some generous realism and entertainment thrown in. I understand that this has been done before, but I would really like to attempt to bring the friends and enemies I made in this wonderful game to "life". FEEL FREE TO LEAVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!**

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Rigormr felt the uncomfortable wood beneath him and heard the clomping of hooves first. He registered a dull throbbing in the back of his head, but when he tried to lift his hands to feel for an injury, his hand stayed where it was – tied behind his back – and he drearily opened his eyes. The daylight was much too bright for his sensitive eyes and he quickly closed them again with a groan. He heard breathing all around him and he sat up from his previous sprawled position. He squinted his eyes open slowly and ignored the ache in his head.

His eyes took in the sight of snow-covered trunks and forestry numbly. Even before the foliage was two dirty strangers looking at him, one with concern and the other with desperation. The bleeding heart was wearing a warm-looking blue cuirass with fur gloves and had dirty long blond hair and blue eyes. The other one was wearing nothing but a stringy tunic; the same thing Rigormr seemed to be wearing. He had unruly dark-brown hair and brown eyes. Rigormr looked to the left and right and noticed three more people.

To his immediate right was a gagged man who was not looking at him, but was wearing an expensive looking clothes and brown hair that reached the base of his neck. Past him, Rigormr could see a bored-looking man riding a brown horse in a red-and-brown armor that ended without leggings and brown bracers and boots. It looked to be a uniform, as the man to his left wore the same outfit, except with a brown helmet as well. Besides the horse rider, they all seemed to be in a carriage. And the four of them in the cart were in binds.

"Ah. You're finally awake." The gravelly voice came from the blond. Rigormr swiveled his head back to him to show he was paying attention. "You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked straight into that Imperial ambush, same as us. And that thief over there." Rigormr took notice of how his voice hardened at _Imperial_ much more than _thief._

"Damn you Stormcloaks." Rigormr turned to the "thief". He was glaring at the blond. "Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." The "stormcloak" looked unconcerned with the man's accusation. "If they hadn't been looking for you I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The thief's voice was hard as he lectured, and then he turned to Rigormr; his voice softened noticeably. "You and me. We shouldn't be Here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

Rigormr was still unsure where "Here" was, as he couldn't remember anything since…

His ponderings were interrupted by the stormcloak who finally responded to the thief.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief." The seemingly light-hearted exclamation from the stormcloak had a warning in it that Rigormr noticed, but not the thief. He opened his mouth to respond when he was silenced by the guard who didn't even look behind him.

"Shut up back there." The driver commanded, sounding equal parts irritated and bored.

The rode in silence for a few hours, and Rigormr could see the snow begin to make way for grass on the ground. He was feeling pretty sleepy still, but his head didn't hurt nearly as much anymore. The thief had stopped glaring at the blond, and was instead looking curiously at the gagged man, probably wanting to know what his deal was. Rigormr did as well. He still refused to look at any of them, and just glared at the wood between his feet.

After a while, it seemed the thief's curiosity won out over self-preservation. "So what's wrong with _him_ huh?" He asked nobody, but the gagged man finally looked up to glare fiercely at him, unable to respond.

The blond did so for him. "Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" He raised his voice to a near-yell, and the thief was cowed. Briefly.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion." The thief spoke to himself at first but his last statement was directed to the man opposite him. He nodded grimly, gag in place. Rigormr looked closely at him. He didn't know what a Jarl was, but it sounded like he was a leader of more than just a rebellion. The thief continued, the concentration on his face evolving into terror and dread. "But if they've captured you…Oh gods! Where are they taking us?!" He questioned, already knowing the answer, as did the blond.

"I don't know where we're going, only that Sovngarde awaits." The blond's voice was grim, but not cold.

The thief didn't seem to care, as he was too busy panicking. "Gods! This can't be happening!" He held his face in his hands and hunched over in despair. Rigormr looked at the two, feeling a good bit of despair himself. He couldn't help but silently agree with the thief - that as kind as the blond was - without him, neither the thief nor himself would be travelling to their deaths currently. He didn't need his memories to know that much, but vocally agreeing with the thief wouldn't help his situation, and turn his last hours with friendly company into a silent death march with a thief and their murderers.

After another few hours passed with Rigormr taking note of the increasingly sparse snow on the ground and occasional morose chatter between the stormcloak and the thief. He noticed the driver perk up after a while and some incomprehensible talking far in front of their wagon. Looking past the driver's back, he noticed stone walls surrounding a few stone towers and surely a hidden small village.

"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting." An imperial ahead of them voiced out, sending chills down Rigormr's spine.

"Good. Let's get this over with." This impatient voice came from much closer than Rigormr was expecting, but the driver must be blocking his view of the General. He stayed silent as they entered the village, but the stormcloak did not.

"Look at him." He spat. "General Tullius, the military governor." This was voiced with mock respect. "Looks like the Thalmor are with him, Damn Elves." He finished, glaring at the sight of four horse riders to their right. Rigormr saw the back of an ornate armor piece and cloaked horse from a tanned man who must be Tullius. He also saw the ones the blond called Thalmor.

They were High Elves, and had pale yellow skin, with deeper hair and golden eyes. They looked to be taller than Tullius by a good two or three heads. The one in the middle, a woman, swept her gaze imperiously over the four of them in the wagon; her gaze resting on Ulfric with a smirk before shifting to Rigormr's with curiosity before returning to Tullius. This wasn't innocent curiosity, though. It made Rigormr feel as if he were some unknown bug she just happened to notice she had stepped on. She wore a tight dark robe with a high collar and several decorations. Her two companions wore carved golden armor and beautifully designed helmets.

By the time Rigormr had processed all of this they had already driven behind a tower, cutting off his view of the parley. As he looked around curiously, the stormcloak seemed to take pity on him.

"This is Helgen." He supplied helpfully. Rigormr was pleased that at least he would know the name of his death spot. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here." He continued. Rigormr noticed a wistful look on his face. "I wonder if Vilod still makes that mead with Juniper berries mixed in." Now that the stormcloak mentioned it, Rigormr was getting really thirsty himself, and had been ignoring the hunger pangs for the whole trip. What use was food when you were about to have your head separated from your body?

"Wait, why are we stopping?" The thief piped up. Rigormr looked up and saw the carts in front of them lining up by a stone wall, and felt their cart slow down as well. He suddenly felt extremely sick to his stomach.

"Why do you think? End of the line." Teased the stormcloak, without malice. They all got up as they saw the other occupants stepping off the wagons, lining up in front of the Imperial soldiers. The back of the wagon opened, and Ulfric and the thief stepped off.

"You can't do this! You've got to tell them, we work WITH you!" The thief pleaded to the heavily armored woman in front of them. Her imperial outfit had steel on parts of it, and her helmet was not leather but pure steel, with a design on the top that Rigormr figured symbolized command or something. She had Redguard skin, and hard eyes, with a scowl seemingly stuck on her face. She ignored the thief and called for them to step up when their name was called.

"Ulfric Stormcloak." A somber voice listed off. Rigormr looked ahead to see a man with a list and quill, looking distressed at the upcoming events. The gagged ruler simply stepped up and calmly strode to the circle forming near another stone tower a few meters away. "Lokir of Rorikstead." He called out. The thief, Lokir, suddenly stopped shaking, but Rigormr caught the desperation oozing from him.

"No. This is a mistake! YOU'RE NOT GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted, as he suddenly bolted down the road.

"HALT!" The officer shouted, but went ignored. She shrugged before barking out, "ARCHERS!" The two men at the back, nearest Lokir, nodded their heads and strung an arrow in their bows. Rigormr didn't want to look, but before he could turn his head, he heard the _twang_ of the bows releasing and two arrows buried themselves into Lokir's back. With a short howl, he went down, hopefully dying quickly. She looked directly at Rigormr at his wince, and smirked nastily. "Does anyone else feel like running?" She said, still staring at him. He stayed immobile. "Good."

"Ralof of Riverwood." The man with the quill said tersely. The blond beside Rigormr strode forward, but as he went the quill man and Ralof had a short stare-down. He watched Ralof walk to his death before turning to Rigormr. "Now, who…are you?" He asked, confused.

"I am Rigormr. I must have been crossing the border or something, because I am not a stormcloak and I can't remember anything at all," He pleaded with the man. The man looked at his list, back up at the man, and nodded uncomfortably. Rigormr felt hope begin to develop in his heart, and his breath quickened.

"Captain, what should we do? He is not on the list." He asked her. She looked over at him again, sneered, and turned her back to face the circle.

"Forget the list. He goes to the block." Only for the hope to die like he will.

"I am sorry, prisoner. You picked the wrong time to return to Skyrim." The quill-man spoke up, sincerely. Rigormr tried not to despair as he was casually sentenced to a death he didn't deserve. "At least you will die here, in your homeland, kinsman." The other nord said reassuringly. Rigormr could appreciate the effort, so nodded to him as the Captain lead him to the circle.

As they entered, the other prisoners were entering as well. General Tullius strode in front of Ulfric. "You started this war. Plunged Skyrim into chaos. Now the Empire is going to put. You. Down. And restore the peace." Ulfric mumbled something but was ignored. He then looked to a robed woman, and commanded her, "Give them their last rights." She nodded, and began.

"As we commend your souls to Etherious, blessings of the Eight Div-"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with." interrupted a ginger stormcloak as he was led to the block.

"As you wish." She replied with faux-politeness.

He looked back at the woman. "Get on with it! I haven't got all morning!" As the Captain shoved him to his knees and planted his head over the block, he continued. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials! Can you say the same?" To Rigormr, it seemed he thought his question rhetorical. His speech was interrupted by General Tullius, who had ran out of patience.

"Get ON with it!" He groaned. The headsman nodded, and slowly lifted up his axe. Rigormr felt his breath freeze as it reached its peak, before coming back down quickly on the stormcloak's neck, severing the head with a spray of blood. He couldn't help but notice how horrifically convenient it was for the head to fall into a little basket in front of the block.

"YOU IMPERIAL BASTARDS!" Screamed a women to his left. Probably a close friend or lover.

"Justice!" argued Tullius.

"Death to the stormcloaks!" Agreed the captain.\

"Long live the Empire!" A random soldier shouted.

Curious, Rigormr looked over at the quill-man, but his face was set at the head basket with a grimace.

"Next, the nord in rags!" commanded the captain, causing his heart to freeze in his stomach. He didn't move. Suddenly, they all heard an echoing roar from the mountains, one that made every nerve in Rigormr's body screamed at him to run, to hide, to submit. The others didn't seem to feel the same, merely looking around confused and muttering to themselves. "I said. Next. Prisoner." She repeated, irritated with his disobedience.

"To the block, prisoner, nice and easy." This came from the quill-man, voice soft – as if speaking to a wounded animal. The captain came before him and glared at him to follow her. His mouth dry, he shakily walked behind her to the block, passing Tullius on the way. He seemed confused, but shrugged it off and turned to observe the second execution.

As he came to the block, another soul-piercing roar was heard, this one closer. "There it is again." Said Ralof, looking to the far off mountains.

"Carry on." Said the captain. The headsman nodded, and Rigormr felt the captain force him to his knees, and her boot on his back, pushing him to the blood-soaked chopping block. He felt pure shock, no longer scared, just shocked. He looked at the headsman, who was gripping his axe.

Suddenly, he saw a dark shape in his peripherals fly from behind the distant mountain tops, heading for them.

"What IN OBLIVION IS THAT!?" The general asked no one, summing up all of the thoughts of those who saw it.

One of those who did not see it was the headsman, who began to lift his axe just as the shape landed on the tower before them, causing huge vibrations that knocked him off his balance.

"Dragon!" shouted a stormcloak woman in dread.

The dragon looked into Rigormr's eyes, and he saw the hatred, rage, and domination boiling behind them. The dragon studied his face as well, and very briefly, all was quiet. Then, the dragon broke eye contact and roared something into the sky, causing all the people to stumble as pure power exploded out form the dragon with the sound of a thunder clap.

From his view on the block, he could see the sky breaking apart and swirling in dark energy before flaming rocks the size of two men began to rain down from the heavens, and the dragon flew off his perch. One of the first boulders slammed into the tower, and some debris smashed into Rigormr's head, causing his vision to go blurry as he heard everyone panic.

He felt someone jostle him and looked to see a blurry Ralof looking at him worriedly. "C'mon! To the tower, we must hurry!" He pointed to a tower with an open door just a few meters away. The two of them booked it to the door, dodging as much debris as they could, getting injured a bit from shrapnel, but made it inside. Rigormr turned to close the door when he saw the biggest flaming boulder he had seen yet heading for him. With wide eyes, he waited for his death when the boulder slammed into the doorway, not small enough to reach him, but lodging itself in the doorway, closing them off form escape.

Ralof looked to the flaming stone in the doorway with wide eyes before gulping and turning to the now ungagged Ulfric. "Jarl Ulfric." His voice choked with apprehension, "That was a dragon! Could the legends be true?!"

The man looked to the boulder as well before muttering softly and deeply, "Legends don't burn down villages."

Ralof looked searchingly at his King, before turning to Rigormr. "We need to get out of here. Up through the tower, GO." He stated before sprinting up the winding stone steps. Another stormcloak was already waiting on the next level, and all Rigmor could see was him standing over rubble blocking the rest of the way up before the tower between the stormcloak and the two of them exploded. He saw the stormcloak gasp in fear and a black scaled snout open to reveal teeth the size of his hand right in front of him before he heard the dragon scream another strange word before Ralof dragged him back as fire shot out of the mouth for a few seconds and heat washed over him, blistering the skin on his arms covering his face in the millisecond before he was dragged away.

The stream of fire eventually ended and Rigormr gasped in pain as the burn on his arms registered with his brain. He looked back up to see the dragon glance at him again before taking off. Where before a stormcloak was digging through rubble, now there was just a few blackened bones and a room of red-hot stone.

"You okay?" Ralof asked him. He nodded and tried to ignore the stinging pain in his arms and mild burning all over his front. "You see that inn, on the outside?" Rigormr looked out the new hole to see a newly roofless building less than two meters down from the hole. He gave Ralof a flat look at the fact that the building was on fire and the hole had red-hot floor between them. All he had was footwraps. "It's this, or die." Ralof countered, nodding towards his charred comrade.

Rigormr nodded and focused on his breathing as he ran the few steps of hot rock, letting out a yell of pain for every step. He jumped off the tower and landed in the inn. Luckily he landed okay and missed a source of fire behind him. However, his feet were horribly blistered, and he could feel what was left of the footwraps melting into his feet. He wanted to sit on his ass and nurse his feet with water, but he wanted to live even more. He put the pain out of his mind by focusing on survival and keeping track of the dragon. He jumped down a hole to the second floor of the inn and ran outside.

He saw the quill-man and his comrade snatch a little boy away from a burning corpse right before the dragon landed in front of them and tried to scorch them unsuccessfully. He finally noticed Rigormr behind the wall as well and gave a grimace at his conspicuous injuries. Luckily, the natural magicka in the air had already started healing the worst of his burns, but he was still in pain.

"Still alive, prisoner?" Grinned the man, "Stay close to me if you want it to stay that way." Rigormr had no problem with that, and nodded. "Come on, and STAY CLOSE TO THE WALL." He had to shout over a roar. They ran along it when out of nowhere a talon stabbed into the wall in front of Rigormr, causing him to freeze. The dragon shot fire again above the two, causing his burns to tingle painfully. He looked down afterwards, and seemed amused to see Rigormr again, before flying off.

The two ran through another burning building, and heard Tullius telling all the men to retreat into the keep. The quill-man ran down a hill, and gestured for Rigormr to follow. They ran the short distance to the fort, with the dragon killing most of those who followed them. They met Ralof, who had gotten his hands unbound and on an axe, who confronted the quill man.

"Ralof! You damn traitor! Get out of our way!" The quill-man said, brandishing his blade.

"You won't be stopping us this time, Hadvar!" Ralof responded equally angry.

Rigormr saw the dragon flying towards them, and took off to the door he saw, taking one of them by the arm. "Now is NOT the time for this!" He scolded. They ran to the door, and entered the keep, slamming and locking the door behind them.


End file.
